Guardian Angel
by Hot n' Exotic
Summary: AU. Suze Simon is captured by the unexpected attackers of her sleepy hometown. Left amidst ruthless men, her only hope at life is her handsome captor, Captain Jesse de Silva. But can she truly trust him to protect her from his own kinsmen? JS.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: I know, I know, I really shouldn't be starting a new story now but I couldn't help myself. :D In this, I decided to take the 'bad boy' theme a notch – or, okay, a few notches – up. **

**Hope you enjoy it!**

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The explosion shook our house to its roots. The book I was reading fell out of my hands, landing on the floor with a soft thud. Not that I could hear it over the din. My eyes widening worriedly, I rushed over to my window, staring outside.

The night sky was a pandemonium of wild colors – orange, red and yellow. The thick, suffocating smoke was doing a frenetic dance on top of the frenzied flames. People – my own neighbors – were running about, screaming in terror. Hair and hands were flying frantically.

I stared in horror. My own neighbourhood, my home, was in wrecks. I blinked, trying to break away from the nightmare. It couldn't be. Our peaceful neighbourhood would have been the last place for a terrorist attack. In fact, the whole county was not a potential candidate for experiencing terrorism. My home was a tired old place where the biggest event of the year was when the county fair would set up.

So, the big question was: Why the explosions here?

I was rooted to the spot. Despite the mayhem below, I couldn't take my eyes off the scene. The flames and the smoke…they were entrancing. The fire was dancing seductively, each flame bringing down the aged houses with one blazing lick, and the whorls of smoke were swaying precariously on top.

I was only broken out of my stupor when the dust particles in the smoke went into my nose, making me cough roughly. I quickly closed the window but then something caught my eye. Or rather, some people.

Squinting down, I noticed that among the people dressed in their bed clothes, there were many men – or women, I couldn't be sure – dressed in completely black. Looking closer, I saw that they were the ones wielding guns.

The door to my room suddenly burst open. I screamed, whipping around sharply, my heart in my mouth.

"Suze!" my mother cried, clamping a hand on my mouth. Her hair, chestnut brown just like mine, was standing on end.

I almost sighed with relief. Almost.

"Mom! What's happening? Why is…?" I shouted over the noise.

"Susie, quick, we have to GO! Hurry up!" my mom cried, dragging me out of my room and down the wooden staircase.

We couldn't get far, however. We were at the landing when my mom, who was in front, gave out an ear-splitting scream. Looking down around her, I saw with a sick realization that the men in black had invaded our homes.

"Suze! Go back! Go back and jump out the window!" my mom was screaming deliriously, pushing me back up the stairs with all her might.

I was crying in terrified gasps by now. Falling down and scraping my shin painfully against the edge of a stair, I felt my mom, who was crying fearfully too, pull me up and push me again. Running up the stairs as fast as I could, I went into my stepfather, Andy's, and mom's room.

Amid the mass of feelings and noises closing in on me, I didn't feel my mother's vice-like grip on my arm loosen and, finally, let go. Nor did I hear her scream as she was pulled away by one of the gunmen.

I was in my parents' room when I saw my eldest stepbrother, Jake, climbing out their window and, before he could see me, dropping down to the backyard. I heard him usher my youngest stepbrother, David, away below. The fragment of my mind which was not saturated with untamed fear, felt a sense of relief at knowing that at least two of my family members had gotten away.

It was then that I noticed the absence of my mom's hand on my arm and her urgent cries in my ear. Looking around, dread conquering my mind and body, I saw a flash of black and then three men were standing in front of me, blocking the doorway.

They were dressed in tight trousers and fitted turtleneck sweatshirts. Black bandanas were wrapped around their heads and their faces were covered with black clothe too. I could only see their eyes and foreheads. Their hands too, were gloved in black.

Fear filled my body as if I was dipped in an ocean of it, just like water fills a sponge when it is dipped in it. They were all tall, muscular men. Next to their powerful presence, my petite frame felt positively frail.

"W—what have you d—done to my mom?" I managed to whisper, mustering up the last shred of my courage. I didn't even know if they spoke English.

All three of them continued staring down at me silently. _Menacingly_, I thought. Slowly, inch by inch, I backed up against the window. I was so intent on my escape, that I didn't notice the little nod the man in the centre, the tallest one, gave.

Instantly, the other two rushed forward at me. Moving faster than I had ever moved in my entire life, I whipped around and tumbled out of the window. Landing hard on the grass – _the fresh green grass that Andy, so vigilantly mowed every weekend,_ I thought, tears coming to my eyes – I cried out in pain. Trying to ignore, the throbbing in my ankle, I pushed myself up and hobbled as fast as I could towards the fence. It was a good thing I was a fairly tough girl.

I screamed in frustration as I heard the thuds of the men as they landed – more gracefully than me, I should think – on the grass. I couldn't help it. I had to turn around to see how far behind they were. It was only human.

And that was my big mistake.

As I swivelled around, my eyes widened at their close proximity. _'They can't be that close!'_ I thought frantically, thinking of the head start I'd gotten. I opened my mouth to scream, but no sound came out.

Just as I was about to turn back and run faster, the tallest one, the one who had nodded and who I presumed was the leader, came up behind me and clamped a powerful hand on my mouth. His other arm snaked around my waist, pressing me into his hard chest.

I thought then that it was fear. But now, looking back, I think it was a spark of electricity. A charged bolt which should have warned me about the dangers beyond physical harm, or even death, which lay for me with this man.

One of his arms left the grip on me and reached into his pocket, bringing out what looked like a soaked hanky. _Chloroform,_ I thought. _Why doesn't he just kill me and get over with it?_

He brought it to my nose. One of my flailing arms went to his face, pulling down the clothe he was wearing to cover it. The last thing I saw was an incredibly exotic face, and then I fell into a dreamless slumber.

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**A/N: I know, I have a tendency of writing a little short first chapters. Don't worry, folks, there'll be longer ones next time! Please review!**


	2. Chapter 2

"_But, Mom," the girl whined. "If you hated him, how come you married him?" She couldn't have been more than eleven-years-old. _

_Her mother's melodic laugh, made her sigh slightly in envy. "That was at first, sweetie. Slowly, I grew to love him. Of course, it took time…and a truckload of tokens of his affection." The woman winked at her daughter. _

_The girl pouted. "I still don't get it. Love and hate, they're two totally pole-to-pole feelings! If you can grow to love the person you hate, then it means you never hated them at all," she stated defiantly. _

_Her mother smiled, her emerald eyes twinkling as they gazed down at her daughter's identical ones. "Maybe," she answered, shrugging. "Besides," she added, leaning down with a mischievous smile, "if we hadn't turned our hatred into love, you would never have been born, would you?" She grinned. _

_Her daughter rolled her eyes. "Whatever," she muttered. _

_The mother laughed softly and got up to leave. "Just remember one thing, sweetie. Love and hate, they're both very extreme emotions. There's a very thin line dividing the two of them," she said, smiling softly. She then turned around and walked out of the room. _

_The girl, rolled her eyes, and flopped down on the sofa, turned on the TV and flipping through the channels. An hour later, the whole conversation was forgotten._

_The next time she remembered it was five years later, in a stranger's lair. _

_-- _

I woke up. Slowly, the black and white fuzz started clearing and I could see my surroundings. I rolled over onto my back and stared at the low white ceiling. For a moment, I wondered about my strange dream.

There had been something familiar about that woman. And the girl…I blinked. Those green eyes, the wavy brown hair…it was my mom. And me. Eleven-year-old me.

I turned my head to the left, the side from which light was streaming in and warming my face. The sky outside was a bright, forget-me-not blue, stretching on and on in infinite expanses. I remembered a time when my mom had told me that its timeless, unwavering beauty gave her the strength to get up each morning and go about with her life after my dad had passed away.

As I watched the clouds drift lazily across the vast, blue canvas, tears blurred my vision. My mom. Thinking about her had made the enormity of the whole situation suddenly erupt violently in front of me as if reminding me of where exactly I was.

I cried in soft sobs, too afraid to make too much noise lest I should bring any of my kidnappers in. It was as if I was a cloth being wrung vigorously after being washed, twisted until the very last drop of water had abandoned my body. My pillow was drenched.

What had happened to my mom? Was she okay? Or was she…? How about Jake and David? Had they been able to escape to somewhere safe? And Andy? And Brad?

Questions ran through my mind in whirlwinds as sobs racked my body. As the part of my brain which was still able to think logically assessed each question and brought out the list of possibilities, I gasped harder and clutched at the rough blanket and pulled it closer up to my chin.

All the while, the sky continued to be just as blue and the clouds continued to float languidly, all in their own dreamy world, completely unaware of the mayhem that had happened the night before.

Then, my sadness turned to anger. How come the sky was just the same as any other day, all blue and happy and…hopeful? What right did the friggin' clouds have to move so slowly when there were people down below running for their lives? And, most importantly, what right did those goddamn men have to separate me from my family? What had I done to them? I didn't even know them!

My mouth contorting into an angry grimace, I clenched my hands into fists. I wanted to scream. I wanted to burst my lungs screaming.

Just as I was about to succumb to my furious idea, the sound of a door opening made me turn my head a full one hundred and eighty degrees to the right. I held my breath as I heard the door close and footsteps walk the short corridor into the room.

In less than two seconds, I saw him. And my eyes widened. He was…well, handsomer than I expected. He couldn't have been more than twenty. His raven hair was settled on his head in soft waves, a strand flopping onto his eye, making him look like the dangerously handsome man that he was. He stood at six feet, towering over my laying figure. The masculinity of his presence seemed to fill the tiny room. And his eyes…they were just as black as his hair…and they were looking straight at me.

I gulped, thinking it would have been easier if I had pretended to be asleep. I tried to keep the fear out of my eyes. I had never expected such a violent person to be so good-looking. Though, thinking about it now, I thought how illogical that notion had been. And the fact that he was so handsome made my stomach tighten involuntarily.

The fear, it was completely logical though. I had heard millions of stories about lust-consumed soldiers. And really, I thought, why else would he keep me alive? Unconsciously, I tightened the blanket even more around myself, trying to grasp onto the warmth it sheathed me in.

"Is your head still hurting?" he asked, his deep voice reverberating inside the small room. His face remained expressionless.

I looked at him, fear stalling my voice. He narrowed his eyes slightly when I didn't answer. I could see he was not used to being disobeyed.

"I asked you a question," he said, his eyes still narrowed menacingly at me. I shivered.

Forcing apart my parched lips, I croaked, "S—still? W—what do y—you mean?"

"There's a cut on your forehead. You got it when you so foolishly jumped out the window last night."

I slowly pulled my hand out of the blanket and gingerly touched my forehead. A low hiss of pain left my lips. I looked back at him.

He wordlessly went to a cabinet and started looking for something in it. I stared at his back, wide-eyed. Another set of numerous questions entered my mind.

Without thinking, I asked, "Y—you speak English?"

He turned his head towards me, a long inky eyebrow raised pointedly. The look in his eyes clearly said that he thought I was mentally retarded. I blushed, kicking myself inside.

Forcing myself to stay silent, I looked around me. The room was sparsely decorated. The only furniture was the double bed I was laying on, the cabinet through which he was rifling through, and a long table backed up against the wall. On the table lay a deadly-looking polished rifle and one of those curved daggers you saw in Aladdin.

I tore my eyes from the weapons and looked at the bed. The bedspread was plain and dark grey. The blanket around me was made of rough, cheap, white cotton.

I was broken from my observations by his large tanned hand coming down heavily, but gently, on my shoulder. I jumped, my shoulder burning with the heat from his calloused skin.

He dropped his hand but brought the other one, which held a wad of cotton soaked in what smelt like alcohol, up to my forehead. I backed my head away, a sudden surge of hatred and anger rushing through me. Was this his way of making up for kidnapping me? If so, I thought, he was poorly mistaken.

He pursed his lips slightly and threw the wad onto the blanket. Then he turned away and pulled out a wicker chair from the little corridor out of my sight and sat at the table. He began looking through some paperwork. Diagrams, from what I could make out.

I was somewhat thrown by his lack of persistence. I had expected him to keep on trying. For reasons unknown, I was miffed. This was a man who didn't allow himself to be belittled at any cost, I realized. His attitude was a very 'suit-yourself' one.

Sitting up slowly, I picked up the wad of cotton and dabbed at my forehead gingerly. I couldn't help letting out a low hiss as the alcohol stung my wound.

He turned to look at me. I ignored him and continued dabbing gently.

"What is your name, girl?" he asked, breaking the tensed silence.

I narrowed my eyes at him, forgetting my fear for the moment. "Excuse me? Girl?" I asked rudely.

He raised his eyebrows a little, turning the chair around to face me and looking at me impassively. "Yes, girl. What else are you?"

"I _am_ a girl but…but you don't have any right to call me that. Firstly, it's rude. And secondly, what are you? You're barely a man, yourself," I said hotly.

The way his eyes blinked and then narrowed dangerously told me that I had gone too far below the belt. My heart thudded loudly in my chest.

"What is your name?" he demanded tightly. His smouldering gaze bore into mine, making me flinch. He was trained, I could see, at making people do things his way.

"S-Susannah," I mumbled, looking down at the sheet. I plucked at a loose strand nervously.

"Well, Susannah, this will be your home for the next few…for some time. Don't try to get out of this room," he said, turning halfway back to the table.

The way my name rolled out of his mouth so easily and deeply, made me grow hot. Taking a deep breath, I asked, "What about you? What am I supposed to call you?"

I expected something like 'master' or 'sir' or 'captain'. What I got instead was—

"Jesse."

I blinked. "That's it?" I asked stupidly.

He turned back to look at me, the 'you-are-clearly-retarded' look back on his flawless face. "Yes, that's it." He turned back to his work.

I flushed, annoyed at how easily he made me grow all hot and bothered. Quietly, I climbed out of bed and tiptoed across the tiled floor to the other door in the room, which I assumed led to the bathroom.

The bathroom was surprisingly clean for one that belonged to a man. It was tiny, only a toilet seat, a sink and a tap fixed into the wall. A bucket and a small plastic mug stood beneath the tap. He had hung a fresh towel on the hook behind the door for me. Clearly, he was a man who missed nothing.

I cleaned myself up the best I could with no toothbrush or face wash or clean clothes. I made a mental note to ask him to get a few necessary goods. Suddenly, I paused wiping my face. It seemed like I was going to be here a long time. And worst of all, it looked like I was getting used to the idea.

I was torn. I didn't know what to do. Should I defiantly show my hate for him, risking my life in the process? Or should I be practical and accept the turn of events, at least until I found a path of escape?

Walking out, I cleared my throat.

"Umm…Jesse?" It felt strange calling a person of the kind that I had never thought I would meet by his first name. He turned back to me. I thought he was getting tired of turning to me and back again.

"H—how long will I be here?" I asked, tears rising under my eyelids. I desperately tried to hide them but failed. I lowered my eyes as the tears traitorously spilled over. Hastily, I wiped them with the sleeve of my thin sweater.

For the first time, I saw some kind of emotion flit across his face. After a second, his face was just as expressionless as before.

"If you mean, when you are going to be returned to your family, the answer is never," he said stoically.

My eyes widened to their limits. I thought my knees would give out below me.

"What? Never? I…what…I, NO!" I gasped in horror. "Aren't you just keeping me for ransom or something?" Fear. Fear that ran like a wild jungle predator swept through me.

He stood up suddenly, the weak chair he was sitting on, almost toppling over. Calmly, he walked over to me and put a hand under my chin, tilting my head up so I was looking directly at him.

Shockingly, my body responded with tingling anticipation. He leaned his head down, until his nose was tickling mine. Everything was still, only both of our breathing could be heard.

"Because," he whispered softly, his dark-eyed gaze enrapturing me. "You are mine."

I ripped my chin out of his grasp. He looked slightly angered. Of course he would. He most probably had women at his feet all the time.

"What? I am yours?" I said, almost laughing at the stupidity of what he said.

"Yes," he answered, stone-faced.

"Yours…what do you mean?" I asked, momentarily curious. He spoke like he came from the dark ages or something.

"I captured you, meaning you belong to me now," he replied. Leaning down for emphasis, he added, "Forever."

Angrily, I shoved his hard chest with all my strength. He didn't budge. "Listen," I hissed at him. "I don't know what it's like in wherever you're from, but in here, people are no longer sold like objects. Nobody _belongs_ to anyone."

He made no answer, as if he hadn't heard a word of what I'd just said. Turning back, he walked to the door and opened it. There, he turned around and said hardly, "If you want to remain in one piece, you will not venture outside this room." Then he walked out, closing the door loudly behind him.

Anger boiling hot inside me, I looked back outside the windows. Gazing at the azure sky, I thought of what my mom had told me, once again. But I couldn't find a shred of the strength it had offered to her.

Because, for me, there was no hope anymore. I was bound to that…brute for the rest of my life.

Or, in his words, forever.

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**A/N: Like? :D Please review!**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Thank you so much for the overwhelming response for the previous chapter! Hope you enjoy this one! And a Happy New Year to everyone!**

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I wandered through the narrow corridor. The walls were grey; the builders hadn't bothered to paint over the concrete. The floor was covered in a shabby faded carpet. On either side of me, white doors lined the corridor.

It was refreshingly quiet in the rundown building that the terrorists had decided to make their makeshift home. Or 'warriors', as Jesse preferred to call themselves. My muffled footsteps on the thin carpet were the only sounds I could hear.

Jesse had warned me to not venture outside his room, but since today he and his men had left for the day, I considered it safe enough to come out. I was trying to look for a distraction to take my mind away from the thought of what the warriors were doing at the moment. Most probably bombing some peaceful neighbourhood and taking more innocent people's lives.

I ignored the tightening of my throat and continued exploring. But, somehow, my thoughts always returned to the same line again. I couldn't believe that as I was standing here, completely unharmed, under the shelter of a group of terrorists, the same men were most probably at the moment tearing down the place that I had grown up to call home. The thought almost made me puke with guilt and wonder yet again as to why I had been kept alive.

My eyes flickered to some curtains a few feet ahead of me. Walking fast, I reached them and cautiously pulled them open. I gasped softly. The sight of a deserted, pristine beach greeted my gaze. Slowly, I unhinged the rusted, old-fashioned lock of the window and pushed it open.

A gust of salty air rushed inside, raking cool fingers through my hair. I breathed deeply, the fresh air making me feel better at once. The water was a dark cerulean in the distance but gradually became lighter and lighter until it finally changed into white breakers crashing onto the sand. The sea glittered under the sun, like a fairy and flown by and sprinkled fairy dust onto it. Seagulls perched on the rocks dotting the coast, their cries in harmony with the rhythmic washing of waves onto the beach.

Such natural, soothing sounds were luscious to my ears after two days of Jesse's terse orders and the harsh, abusing voices of the rest of the men outside his room.

The cliffs in the distance were tall and rugged. They stood their place, as stoic as ever, even as the water crashed heavily onto them. _Just like Jesse,_ I thought absently, leaning my elbows on the windowsill.

My thoughts drifting to Jesse, I laughed humourlessly. Ever since I'd started reading those torrid romance novels I so loved, I'd dreamt of a handsome stranger coming and whisking me away from my sleepy old hometown.

_And now,_ I thought derisively. _My wish has come true. A handsome stranger has indeed come and whisked me away from my boring town. Teaches you right, Simon. Be careful what you wish for. _

As my thoughts floated dangerously close to self-pity, I tore my eyes from the lovely scene before me. It wouldn't do, the whole wallowing in my own misery method. If I wanted to get myself out safely, I'd have to actually _do_ something about it.

Leaning further out of the window, I stared at the ground immediately below my head. I was in the third floor, I realized, as I saw the two floors of windows below. The ground was about thirty feet or so below me. It was too dangerous, I decided. It would be of no use if I dropped down and broke my bones and got caught anyway.

Withdrawing from the window, I closed it and hid it away behind the curtains again. Treading down the corridor, I came to a flight of stairs. Coming down to the second floor, I cautiously glanced across the corridor which was exactly the same as the one I had just left. It was deserted. I wondered exactly how many men there were as my eyes flicked over the numerous doors lining the corridor.

Licking my lips, I decided to push my luck and venture down to the first floor. I knew very well that if any of the men caught me, I was a dead woman. If he was kind enough, he would report me to Jesse who would most probably just throttle me with one squeeze of my neck with one of his huge hands for disobeying him. So, either way, if I was caught, I was in deep trouble.

Tiptoeing down the last flight of stairs, I was confronted with a wide square area. The floor over here was not carpeted. It was made of unpolished wooden planks nailed side by side untidily. At one side of the square, a wooden desk and chair sat. At the other end, was a wooden sofa with threadbare cushions placed messily across it. The place gave out an aura of an abandoned seaside inn.

A little thrilled chill ran down my spine. It was just like in those pirate books I'd read. I could just imagine the building as a seaside tavern or inn with loud dirty pirates swaggering in and gulping down rum while scantily dress whores sat on their laps…

Breaking out of my daydream, I quietly hopped to the door. Reaching out, I grasped the rusted doorknob and turned it. It was locked.

Temporarily forgetting that I wasn't supposed to make any noise, I kicked the door in frustration.

"Ow!" I cried as I stubbed my toe. My feet were covered only in the clothe bedroom slippers I'd been wearing when I'd been captured.

"Yes?" a voice called softly from behind me.

I froze, my eyes widening. _Oh, shit,_ I thought. Then something registered in my mind. The voice had been distinctly feminine. Bemused, I slowly turned around, my hands in the air just like people do when the police tell them to put their hands in the air.

A beautiful woman stood in front of me, a small vegetable knife in her hand. I eyes widened even more at its sight. She followed my gaze and looked back at me.

She smiled gently. "Don't worry. It's only for the vegetables," she said, her accent like Jesse's. It was one which I couldn't exactly place.

I blinked. "Umm…right," I croaked, putting my hands down. I shuffled my feet uncomfortably, still not putting my guard down.

She looked at me curiously. "Why did you put your hands like that?" she asked.

I blushed. I must've looked like a freak. "Um, it was just instinctive. You know, when you're caught by the police or something you put your hands like that to show you don't have any weapons…" My voice trailed off.

She blinked and looked at me contemplatively, like a scientist studying a new specimen of butterfly. I just stood poker straight.

"You're the one Jesse brought as his companion, aren't you?" she asked, raising one slender eyebrow.

I had to snort at that one. "More like prisoner," I muttered.

She raised the other eyebrow and asked, "And why would you think that?"

I furrowed my forehead. Why did I think I was a prisoner? Wasn't that sort of _obvious?_ "Err…because I _am_ one?" I replied uncertainly.

She snorted gently. I was annoyed to see that it was a lot more lady-like sound than my snort.

"What is your name?" she asked kindly, her lips still quirked in a half-smirk.

"Susannah," I huffed, folding my hands across my chest. I wasn't going to tell these people my nickname. That was only for family and _friends_.

"Susannah, why don't you come into the kitchen? We can talk while I cook," she said, walking into the room she'd come from.

I followed her cautiously. She smiled and allowed me to look around the room before entering. I came to stand next to her as she chopped carrots on a wooden board set atop a wooden table. I was seriously beginning to think that we'd travelled back in time or something.

She was silent for a while, concentrating on the vegetables. I took that time to observe her. She looked to be in her late twenties or early thirties. Her figure was not exactly slender but not fat either. She had a very defined hourglass figure, I decided. Her waist was narrow enough but it flared out very generously at the hips. Her hair was rich and black, just like Jesse's. It was tied at the nape of her neck, a few strands coming out. We were around the same height.

Finally, she looked up at me and opened her mouth to speak. "My name is Helene. I am the warriors' cook," she introduced.

"Well, then let me say that you're the best cook I've ever met. Next to my stepfather, of course," I said. It was true. I had always heard that army food was very bad but I could say confidently that these men were one well-fed bunch of warriors.

She beamed, her lovely doe-eyes sparkling with pleasure. "Well then, I will have to meet your stepfather," she replied.

I managed to give her a half-smile. "Yeah…if he's still alive…" I murmured. My eyes stung with tears. I forced them back.

Her smile faltered. She looked back at the vegetables. She finished with the carrots and started with the potatoes.

"Susannah," she soon started softly. "You know, they are not doing this on purpose. They don't like doing it any more than you would."

I gave a short humourless laugh and looked at the grey road outside the window. "Oh yeah? Then why don't you tell me why they're doing it?" I asked Helene.

She sighed. "I…I don't exactly know. I just know that some of your people stole something that is precious to us. It could be the ruin of us if it is given to your government and its source is announced. We like staying in anonymity," she said.

I snorted. "Yeah, and what your men are doing right now is a great way to stay anonymous. Very discrete," I said nastily.

She rolled her eyes and shook her head at me. Silence ensued as she worked on the vegetables and I stared out the window.

"Where exactly are you from?" I broke in. I couldn't hold my curiosity any longer. "Are we in your country now? Or are we still in—"

"Yes, we are still in your country," she said. She shook her head at me. "I thought you figured it out already."

I frowned. "Yeah, I did. Just wanted to make sure…"

"Our country is an island in the middle of the ocean. It's in uncharted territory. None of your people have ever been there. Not in the modern era anyway," she said matter-of-factly.

I raised my eyebrows. "I didn't know there was any uncharted territory left. I thought our world atlas was efficient enough," I said.

She smiled smugly. "No, no. Your atlas does not include our island. See, that is one of the reasons why we are taking great care to terminate these thieves who have found out about us and stolen our precious object," she said.

"By killing innocent people?" I asked sardonically.

She pursed her lips in mock reproof. "Susannah, I don't know about their attack strategies. And I think they think that if we kill enough civilians, the thieves will eventually have to come out of hiding."

I stared at her. She talked about killing so casually that is was scary. She must've read my expression correctly, because she then sobered up and said earnestly, "Susannah, please don't think of us as ruthless killers. We don't kill if it is not necessary. It's just that what they stole, it's of very great importance. It will affect the whole country if it is given to your government."

I looked away. I heard her sigh and she started chopping again. I bit my lip. Something about what Helene had told me was nagging me. "Helene," I began. She looked up expectantly. "What did you mean when you said that Jesse brought me here as a companion?"

She smiled, glad that the grim subject we'd been discussing was over. "Well," she started, putting down her knife and wiping her hands on her apron. "In our country, when we come of age – that is eighteen-years-old – we start searching for companions. Companions are something like what your people call 'husband and wife'. Understand?" she asked, waggling her eyebrows at me.

Oh, God. If this was heading the way I thought it was heading…I would go and bang my head on the wall. I gave her a short nod.

She continued. "Well, since Jesse is twenty and he doesn't have a companion yet, he's chosen you as his companion. Companions are bonded for life. We don't have that outrageous 'divorce' thing that you allow over here," she said, wrinkling her nose.

Now my jaw was fully hanging open. After two seconds of staring at her, I managed to croak, "So you mean to say that…I am Jesse's wife and he is my…_husband??_"

She beamed. "You catch on fast. Yes, that's exactly what I meant."

I stomped to the wall and banged my head against it lightly.

"Susannah!" I head her cry, alarmed. Her hands were on my shoulder in a second, bring me away from the wall. "What is wrong?" she asked, her eyes wide.

"How the hell could he decide that I should be his wife? He doesn't even know me!" I half-shouted.

She blinked and furrowed her eyebrows. "Well, he find you very beautiful, that's why," she answered in an isn't-that-obvious tone.

I could do nothing but stare.

--

Back in Jesse room, I turned on the TV and slumped on the bed. The television had been found somewhere in the storage room of the building and Jesse had had it connected. Even though the signal in this place wasn't all that good, it was something, at least.

It was the one thing for which I was grateful to Jesse. It allowed me to keep track of what was going on outside. Although, of course, _he_ would never know that. That I was grateful to him, I mean.

Staring unseeingly at the little box, I shook my head disbelievingly at the turn my life had just taken. I was sixteen-years-old, my town, which had been my home since birth, was in wrecks because of a certain group of terrorists, I had no idea what had happened to my family, and now I found out that I was to be the wife of the young captain of the attackers.

I was broken from my thoughts by the sound of the door opening. Assuming it was Jesse, I didn't move from my place. However, when the intruder appeared before me, I jumped up.

It wasn't Jesse. Far from it, in fact. The man was short where Jesse was tall. He was stout, Jesse was lean and muscular. In short, this man was ugly and Jesse…wasn't.

I kicked myself inside. Jesse had told me to lock the door. I must've forgotten.

"Who are you?" I asked suspiciously.

He grinned, revealing a line of tobacco-blackened teeth. "Who am I? You don't need to know that, pretty. I'll just get it done with it seconds and I'll be gone before Jesse comes in," he said, his little black eyes glinting as they roamed over my figure.

I self-consciously wrapped my arms around myself. "Excuse me? Get what done with?"

His grin widened. I wrinkled my nose at the globs of fat that hung off his cheeks. "Hehe. You're an innocent little thing, aren't you? I'll show you what," he said, coming closer slowly.

I breathed in sharply. I quickly scanned the area within reach of my arms for anything to attack this psycho with. My search came up with nothing.

"…Jesse won't even notice. But he does have good taste, I'll give him that. Pretty little wench, you are…" the man was rambling on.

I didn't listen to him, focussing on the little bit of space between him and the wall. If I could just slip by fast enough…

Suddenly his pudgy but strong arms were around me in an iron-hold. It surprised me so much that I fell back onto the ground with him on top. All the air in my lungs was knocked out of me. Gasping for breath, I banged his bald head as hard as I could with my fists.

All of a sudden, however, the weight over me was gone. I lay still, waiting for my breath to come back. I heard a few banging sounds and some curses and shouting and then everything was quiet.

Jesse pulled me up, cradling me in his powerful arms. I stood up, wide-eyed.

"Are you alright, Susannah?" he asked roughly, scanning my body for any signs of injuries.

I gulped and nodded, not trusting myself to speak. I had never truly appreciated Jesse warnings until now. When he had told me that it was dangerous to keep the door unlocked or venture out of the room, I just thought he was being melodramatic. But now…

He lay me down on the bed and sat next to me. I stared up at him wordlessly, a new kind of respect for him suddenly developing in me. His face was drawn and there was a little frown between his eyebrows.

"Didn't I tell you to keep that door locked?" he asked angrily.

I turned my gaze down, looking at my fingers knotting together.

"I asked you a question, Susannah," he growled.

Forcing my self to look up at him, I said, "I'm sorry, Jesse. I should've listened to you, I guess."

He narrowed his eyes. "I guess? I _guess?_" he roared. "Do you even know what would've happened to you if I hadn't come when I did?"

I pursed my lips, starting to get a little annoyed. "Yeah, I know. You don't need to _teach_ me, Jesse," I retorted.

He scowled menacingly. I stared up at him defiantly. He growled something under his breath and got up and went into the bathroom.

I curled up onto my side and slowly drifted off into an uneasy sleep. I kept opening my eyes a little to see if anybody was coming inside.

Surprisingly, I could only fall into a deep sleep later in the night when I heard Jesse switch the lights off and felt his reassuring weight press down the mattress next to me.

--

**A/N: Anonymous reviews - **

**nicole: Wow! Awesome stuff, your reviews. Thank you so much!**

**deaths-guardian: Thanks so much for the review! I'm glad you liked it!**

**hrny: Yes, the fluff will come in later maybe. They've got to like each other first, don't they? Hehe. :D **

**Please review!**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Thank you SO much for the wonderful response for all the previous chapters! Ya'll rock!**

--

It was one of those days.

One of those days when, for no apparent reason, I was feeling elated and charged and ready to face the day with gusto. Though, it was not logical for me to feel so after the happenings of the previous night. Namely, the fact that I had been about to be ravished against my will by a fifty-year-old psycho.

Still, as I opened my eyes to the new day, a sigh of contentment escaped my lips. The cold uneasiness I'd been feeling the night before had disappeared. It was replaced by a warm feeling, like I was wrapped up comfortably in an impenetrable thick blanket. Even though, I was actually covered up in a thin, very penetrable sheet.

I didn't know exactly why I was feeling like this, but I had an inkling. The idea disturbed me a little as it played through my mind. It was wrong, I knew. But, still, I couldn't help my feelings.

Turning my head to the side, my eyes rested on the object of my inkling. He was sleeping soundly, his long eyelashes resting on the crests of his cheeks. I blinked, the scene from yesterday replaying itself in my mind. I couldn't get the picture of Jesse ripping the intruder off me and felling him with a couple of harsh blows out of my mind. Even though, when it had happened, I had barely noticed what was going on from shock, as I lay in bed the next morning, I could look at the events more clearly.

It dawned on me that old man must have been someone in a high position, for men his age didn't fight. And Jesse had beaten him up. For me. The thought caused a little thrilled shiver to run down my spine. It was soon replaced by fear, though. And, I realized with not-so-little surprise, the fear wasn't for me. It was for Jesse. Because if that old man _had_ been someone of high ranking, Jesse was surely in trouble for hitting him. And that too, for a foreign girl like me.

But even through the fear for him, I couldn't get rid of the sense of serenity that had descended upon me. Not serenity, I realized soon. It was a sense of security. I felt safe at last. After two days of constant fear for my life, I'd finally found a place where I felt one hundred percent safe. That was anywhere near Jesse. He would protect me, I knew, from anything in the world. I had seen it in his anger at me the night before. I'd seen the worry and fear that he'd thought he'd hidden quite well from me.

And that was what was disturbing me. The fact that this man…this _villain_, cared so much for my safety. And what was more was, I cared back for his safety. For the safety and welfare of the man who had been responsible for the destruction of my home and may as well have been responsible for the death of my mother.

Frowning slightly, I stared at him. Soon, fascination overtook my other thoughts. I'd never been this close to a man before. Not even one my stepbrothers.

He was lying on his stomach, his muscular arms wrapped around the pillow below his head. I ran my eyes along the smooth contours of the arm in front of me. My hands were suddenly itching to trace the ridges of the muscles in the brown satiny arm. My gaze flickered over to his face. Asleep, he didn't have the cold alertness that his smouldering eyes normally emanated. A strand of his sable hair had flopped onto his eye as usual.

I couldn't help but think how vulnerable he looked as he slept, without his towering height and intimidating personality to keep predators away. But then, the intensely powerful arm wrapped around his pillow caught my sight again and I almost giggled. It was like he was giving me proof of his invulnerability just as I was thinking otherwise.

My eyes drifted downwards along his long lean body. I gulped as I realized that he was naked. Well, his upper body, at least. And then, suddenly, all the olive glory I was inspecting was interrupted by the whiteness of the sheet that covered him waist downwards.

I scowled for a fraction of a second before realizing what I was doing. The heat rising to my face, I averted it and stared up at the ceiling. _What the hell am I doing?_ I thought vehemently. _I was just checking out _Jesse_! Oh God. _

I forced myself to continue staring at up at the ceiling. But then, who'd want to look at a dreary white ceiling when there's a breathtakingly gorgeous sleeping man to look at beside you?

Sure enough, a second later, my traitorous eyes drifted back to my captor's sinfully handsome form. I narrowed my eyes as I thought over the question which was floating in my head. Which was: What is beneath that sheet? I mean, I knew what was beneath that sheet around his waist, but the thing was, was that thing beneath the sheet clothed or not?

I bit my lips to keep myself from bursting out into a fit of giggles. And at the same time I was shaking my head at my own less-than-innocent thoughts.

Curiosity overrunning my entire being, I lifted myself up into a sitting position. I gingerly grasped the sheet with inquisitive fingers and was about to pull it down when—

_Smack!_

Gasping loudly, as a large calloused hand slapped my hand away, I looked up, wide-eyed. My heart was thumping loudly in my chest.

"Don't you know," Jesse said amiably – well, for him – as he rolled over onto his back. "That it is not nice to ogle at a sleeping man?"

I blinked rapidly and opened and closed my mouth like a goldfish. Then, finally gathering my senses up, I replied in the most disdainful voice I could muster.

"I was _not_ ogling at you, Jesse. God, you really shouldn't think of yourself so highly," I said.

He raised his eyebrows, sitting up. "Oh, then would you please tell me what exactly you were planning on doing once you pulled down the sheet that was covering me?" he said. His face was grave but deep in the chasms of his eyes, I could make out the dancing hilarity.

Burning redder than I'd ever gone before, I said sourly, "Shut up and go back to sleep, Jesse."

He silently lay down again, stretching himself out leisurely. It was the first time I was seeing him so loosened up. He didn't go back to sleep, however. I felt him continue watching me. He was a man of few words, this one.

Feeling the expectant air radiating from him, I asked him, "Jesse?"

"Yes, Susannah?" he answered quietly.

Looking down at his face, I thought he looked like some ancient Greek god of war. So beautiful, so fierce.

"How'd you know what I was doing? You were asleep, weren't you?" I asked. Then, seeing the almost indiscernible quirk of his lips, I realized that this was the question he'd been expecting me to ask. I rolled my eyes exaggeratingly, letting him know that I knew his intentions. This only caused him to widen his lips into a faint smile.

"A warrior—"

"Terrorist," I corrected.

"—always trains his instincts," Jesse said, ignoring my interruption. "In time, even when sleeping, we get alerted to possible danger."

"Oh, please," I muttered under my breath. "Danger? Of what? Me seeing your butt?"

Jesse continued without heeding my interruption. "This skill helps a lot when an enemy launches a surprise attack, especially at night." He became quiet again, evidently finished explaining in three sentences.

A comfortable silence fell over us again as we basked in the warmth of the sunlight from the window. There were a million questions I had to ask him – for instance, what was up with the whole companion thing? – but at the moment, I just wanted to drink in the comfort of the moment.

I realized that I liked it when Jesse became a little more approachable. And I knew that in the future, when his guard was up again, I would do my best to get through it if only to get a glimpse of this Jesse.

After a few minutes of silence, Jesse got up and swung himself off the bed. I could feel the significant rise of the mattress as his weight left it.

To my vast relief, he wasn't naked. He was wearing some sort of black slacks. I'd never actually seen anyone wear that kind of pant before, so I guessed this was the usual nightwear for men from Jesse's country. It was a little billowy, kind of like a more fitted version of the ones Aladdin wore.

His quick glance and minute smirk at me told me that he knew exactly what my intention had been earlier. His look seemed to say 'Got you answer now?' I flushed and flopped back down on the bed amid the tangled up sheets, for need of some movement.

When I looked in his direction again, I was surprised to see him standing there still gazing down at me. I was about to ask him if my hair was looking _that_ bad, when I caught the look in his eyes. My breath hitched.

The look in his eyes as he stared down at me…it could only be described as hunger. Intense, burning hunger. I couldn't believe that such a feeling could be directed at me.

I swallowed hard as Jesse brought one knee onto the bed again and leaned in towards me. His manner was slow, almost as if he didn't want to scare me way. One outstretched hand brushed over my cheek, leaving a trail of hot tingles behind.

And in a flash, I knew what was going to happen if I didn't do anything to stop this. I also knew that I wasn't ready for that yet. But, to stop the sinfully gentle pleasure that Jesse's hand had left on my cheek and his fiery gaze was imprinting on mine…it was difficult. So difficult.

However, I managed to bring my dry lips apart and croaked, "J-Jesse?"

The sound of my voice seemed to break him out of the dark trance he'd been in. Blinking rapidly, he shot out of bed and became still stone pillar again. His poker attitude was betrayed by the slight darkening of the crests of his cheeks, though.

At his questioning look, I blurted out the first question that came to my mind. "Can we buy some shampoo please?"

At this, even Jesse's stony façade had to crack. His wide lips parted in surprise and his brow furrowed a little. I kicked myself inside. _Can we buy some shampoo please?_ What kind of question was that to ask after the – dare I say it? – _sensual_ few seconds before?

No wonder I'd never been kissed before even when all my friends had. My stupidity at handling such situations was just the biggest turn on for men. Not.

"Um, Susannah, I think we do have shampoo in there, don't we?" Jesse said, his voice a slightest bit husky.

"Yeah, but it's almost finished and there's no conditioner and my hair gets all frizzy without it so I was wondering if you could get me some? I haven't shampooed in three days and my hair's getting all greasy so it would be great if you could get some quickly," I babbled in one breath. Then I thought, _Great way to seduce a man, Simon. Point out your greasy hair at him, why don't you? _

But then, since when was I trying to seduce Jesse?

Jesse, who at the moment, looked like he'd much rather be in battle with bombs and guns than deal with a crazy woman ranting about her hair woes, was silent for a moment. Then, with great effort it seemed, he opened his mouth and said, "Alright, then Susannah. We'll go out to the shops today and you can purchase all the…cosmetics that you need."

He looked distinctly uncomfortable. _Ah,_ I thought. _So the great gritty warrior gets uncomfortable when it comes to women's personal hygiene._

I widened my eyes. "You'll take me _with you_?" I asked disbelievingly.

"Yes, Susannah. Don't you want to go?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

I almost started jumping for joy. I was getting out of here at last! "Yes! Yes, Jesse! I want to go!" I said breathlessly.

And for the first time ever, I saw a real big smile break out across Jesse's face. To me, it looked like sunrise, the moment when the Sun finally burst up through the horizon, it's light spreading over great expanses in that one second. And the fact that my happiness caused Jesse to be happy made me even happier.

I grinned at him, all thoughts of him being a villain gone for the moment. "So, when do we go?" I asked excitedly.

"In half an hour," he replied, walking to the bathroom.

--

Thirty minutes later, I walked beside Jesse down the stairs. I was wearing an old pair of jeans and tee that Helene had dug up from her bag of clothes. It had been odd to see these modern clothes among her normal neo-classical gowns. But, she'd informed me that they'd all brought some clothes that would make them fit in here just in case they ever needed to go out as a civilian.

So, it was equally strange for me to see Jesse, in a pair of faded jeans and a white polo that fit to his chiselled form snugly, walking out of the bathroom. I realized that during the past few days, I'd become so used to seeing him and his men in their black turtlenecks and tight pants with their hairs in matching bandanas and their faces covered in black scarves, that seeing him at last in these normal clothes seemed just so…_abnormal_ to me.

Outside, in the gravelled lot, around ten motorbikes stood, gleaming in the sunlight. Their owners were standing next to them, all dressed in casual clothes.

Blinking up at Jesse, who was holding my elbow lightly, I asked, "Are these all your men?"

He nodded. "There are a lot more inside but I asked only these men to come. Too many motorbike riders coming into town at once will draw attention."

"But why do they need to come?" I asked him, frowning a little. I'd thought only Jesse and I would be going.

"For protection," he answered shortly, leading me to a big, gleaming bike. It was just like one of those motorcycles they used in the races, so large and streamlined.

"I don't need pr—whoa," I breathed stopping beside the bike. "Where'd you get all these, Jesse?" I asked.

He smiled slightly. "We brought them with us from the island," he answered. 'The island' was what Jesse's people, or the 'islanders' called their country.

"Oh. So, back there, does everyone go around in motorbikes?" I asked curiously.

His smile turned mysterious. "No, Susannah," he said succinctly. "These are military supplies. Not for civilians."

I was about to ask him then what the civilians used as transportation, when there was a whistle behind us. Glancing around, I saw one of the men leering at me a few yards away. He was handsome, in a very pretty boy kind of way. He had curly brown hair, almost the same color as mine and he looked around Jesse's height.

I was about to ignore him and turn back to Jesse when I heard him growl behind me. Looking at him, I saw his scowl as he looked at the man who'd whistled – who happened to still be grinning, much to my surprise. Instinctively, I put a cautioning hand on Jesse's arm. At my touch, he visibly relaxed and his anger dissolved into mild annoyance.

"Don't worry about him, Susannah," he muttered, swinging his leg and sitting on the motorbike. "Slater whistles at every woman he happens to meet. Seems to find it more effective than pick-up lines." Jesse rolled his eyes.

Then, to my surprise, instead of patting the seat behind him, he patted the space _in front_ of him, as if motioning for me to sit there. He slid back, allowing more space for me.

"Um, Jesse, I'll sit behind you," I said awkwardly, shuffling my feet.

Jesse narrowed his eyes, not having people disagreeing with him often. "You will sit in front of me, Susannah."

I huffed, looking around at the men who were all astride their bikes and were waiting for me to get on with Jesse. "But, Jesse! It looks…" My voice trailed off.

"Susannah." Jesse looked like his patience, already meagre from the beginning, was running out. "If you sit behind me, you do realize that anyone can shoot at us from the back and you'll be my live shield? You will sit in front where I can protect you from all sides," he ended decisively.

I wanted to argue more but hearing the impatient revs of the men's motorbikes, I complied with Jesse and climbed on in front of him. His sculpture-like chest molded perfectly with my back. His powerful arms gripped the handlebars around me, locking me in a powerful, incredibly masculine cage.

And then we were off.

The journey passed on in a two hour blur. The men divided themselves; some riding in front of us and some bringing up the rear. We didn't travel in a cluster; the men led us and followed us at distance so that we wouldn't look like people from the same group.

I remember we stopped at one gas station where Jesse'd bought me a rubber band and asked me to tie my hair since it was flying in his face and disturbing his vision apparently.

Then, we were at the arcade, the biggest one in the county. Jesse had brought me here because I had told him I didn't like the indoor malls.

I drunk in the sight of civilization as Jesse went to give a few orders to his men. The crowd was less than usual – something I could understand, given what the islanders had been up to the past couple of days. But even then, there were people bustling about, shopping bags in their hands. I smiled, glad to be home again.

The next hour went on as I dragged Jesse from shop to shop. He urged me to buy whatever I wanted. But I didn't go overboard. I only bought the necessities. Soap, shampoo, conditioner, lotion, cream…

And soon, I was done.

"Done?" Jesse asked, smiling wryly.

Glancing down at the bags he was holding – he didn't let me carry anything – I replied, "Yeah. I'm done. So…do we go now?"

I suddenly felt the sting of tears. I didn't want to leave yet. I hadn't had enough of home yet.

Jesse looked down at me with uncharacteristic compassion. "I must say, Susannah," he said softly. "I'm surprised at you. You didn't try to escape even once."

I blinked. I was shocked to realize that the thought of escape had never even crossed my mind. Even more shocked to realize that…I could never do that. I could never betray Jesse like that. As he'd said, I was his. If he let me go, only then would I go. But till then, I would stay with him.

And only the day before, I had been planning my escape. It was astonishing how much…_adoration_ and respect I'd developed for him in one day. Even though my hatred for what he'd done to my normal life was just as strong as ever.

"I-I'd never do that," I stuttered, growing hot. "Let's go."

He didn't say anything else, just started leading me back to the motorbikes. I followed him, my eyes lingering on the shops and people. My sadness overweighing any other feeling, I unciously slipped an arm through Jesse's and leaned my head on his muscled upper arm. A small smile tugged at the corner of my lips as I felt him surreptitiously lean back, offering me comfort.

It was then that the bomb exploded.

--

**A/N: Tee hee… Please review…**


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: Alright, how long has it been? Six months? My longest delay to date…I think. However, exams are over and I've gotten down to this at last. Thank you all SO much for being so patient and for the wonderful response to this story. :D**

--

I could almost feel my ears being severed off my head as the deafening explosion shook the whole place. A gigantic black cloud of smoke loomed above the little shops. For a fleeting moment, the sight reminded me of the sentence 'Hell's taken over.'

The next moment, however, all thoughts were banished from my head as Jesse put one of his long arms around my shoulders and started dashing for safety. I blindly followed him as he led me through the wild crowd.

My senses were so overloaded that I couldn't distinctly make out what was happening. There were so many shoves and pushes from everyone around, I went numb. I couldn't distinguish one person shoving me aside to passing by from another. All the shrieks and shouting blended into one ear-splitting buzz, furthering what the explosion itself had done to deaden my ears. The only things I could feel were my feet thudding against the hard concrete and Jesse's protective arm wound around my shoulders.

I felt rather than saw Jesse veer to the right, away from the crowd. Before I could make out where we were going, he shoved me into a little niche and said, "Stay here, Susannah. Don't move. I'll be back."

His ragged voice brought me out of my shock. Another emotion was rapidly taking its place. Anger.

Grabbing his hand as he made to leave, I furiously asked, "Y-you planned for this to happen, didn't you? You…you jerk!" I was so angry, it was hard for me to form my words.

Anger that reflected my own, glinted in Jesse's eyes. "You think I planned for this to happen? That I would plan an attack and bring you along with me? Much use you'll be of, when you're dead," he ruthlessly snapped.

Then, shaking my hand off his hand, he reached into his waistband and pulled out a rifle and darted out into the crowd, leaving me alone in the dark corner. Narrowing my eyes in rage, I huddled against the wall and listened to the chaos just around the corner.

I couldn't believe it. He'd actually had the gall to lie to me about his reason for coming here and bringing all his men with us. Protection, indeed! Ha! How could I have been so _stupid_? Of course he'd brought his men along to launch another attack on the place!

But a second voice was nagging at the back of my mind. It told me that Jesse had told me the truth. He'd had no intention of bombing the peaceful market. It was that second voice which made me recognize the raw honesty in his voice as he'd snapped angrily at me earlier.

I never knew how long I sat there in the dusty little alcove, waiting for the terror around me to fade and for Jesse to come back for me. It fleetingly occurred to me that this was my golden opportunity, that I could escape now without any difficulty at all. I even stood up and haltingly took a step to flee…but my infuriating conscience reminded me of the words I had spoken to Jesse right before the bomb had exploded. _I'd never do that_, I'd said. It wouldn't be right for me to break my promise (well, it was a promise of sorts even though I'd never actually mentioned the word 'promise'.)

But the devil in me persisted. _Well, it's not like Jesse has been all that honourable and innocent, either. He deserves to be disobeyed. And that's the least of punishments you can give him, Simon. _

But…I couldn't. I didn't know what it was, but some invisible force kept me from fleeing. Jesse's first genuine smile that morning floated in front of me. I remembered how it had made my heart skip a beat, knowing I had roused it.

And that was it. I couldn't go. I had to stay, at least until Jesse willingly let me go or I told him I was going to go. This stealthy business was not for me. At least, I knew now, where _he_ was concerned. Scowling at my own weakness, I huddled back against the wall and waited.

Of course, all this resulted in me feeling like a fool. I mean, what if Jesse never came back for me? What if he totally forgot about me and safely escaped instead? I banished the thought before I could give myself leave to feel even more idiotic.

My wait seemed endless to me. I itched to go out and see what was going on and maybe help out. As soon as the thought came to me, another ironical one flashed through my mind. _Help out? Question is, which team?_

However, the practical side in me understood that I would be of no use to any side if I was seen. It would just result in trouble, especially considering that I myself didn't know which side I was on. I made myself do the sensible thing, even though I was dying to see what was going on – I sat quietly in the alcove and stayed out of trouble.

Suddenly, a figure sprinted around the corner and grabbed my arm. I had a fraction of a second to recognize it as Jesse before we were both running as fast we could towards the motorcycles.

"So," I panted, trying to keep up with his ground-eating pace. "You came back."

He turned and gave me a half-quizzical and half-incredulous look, his grip on my wrist unfailing. Before he could answer, however, a shot erupted somewhere dangerously near us. Jesse pointed his gun to our right and fired. Then, he moved me to his left and slid his arm around my shoulders, making the both of us duck our heads.

A few more shots were fired before we reached the bikes. Taking my seat in front of him without a word, I kept my head low as he sat behind me, fired a few more shots and revved the bike into action.

My last impression of the previously merry, bustling market was of a torn down, smoking place with police cars and ambulances scattered all over. I noticed a single ice cream cart fallen on its side. Behind the police cars, reporters and cameramen were getting out of their vans. _Wow, they're fast_, was all I could think before I fell into blissful oblivion.

--

The sound of voices stirred me awake from my unconsciousness. I cracked my eyes open and tried to discern the blurry image in front of me. Something was being rhythmically flapped in front of my face. My vision clearing, I realized it was a hand fan. My gaze followed the arm holding it and I recognized Helene sitting next to the bed where I was lying down, her face pensive.

I looked away from her to stare straight ahead, towards the foot of the bed, where Jesse was pacing the room, muttering angrily. He was angrier than I had ever seen him. He was livid.

Before I could say anything, Helene sighed with relief and said, "You're awake at last."

That brought me up short. Awake? What was there to be so relieved about that? Then, I looked at the fan in her hand and remembered the last few seconds of consciousness and comprehension dawned on me. Along with extreme embarrassment.

I had fainted. Me. Suze Simon, who had never ever fainted in all her sixteen – almost seventeen – years. Oh hell.

My cheeks suffused with heat, I rasped, "Yeah…I'm awake. So…what's up?"

Helene blinked bewilderedly. Well, I couldn't really blame her. Who woke up from a - most embarrassing, I must add – faint and simply asked 'What's up?'? But I didn't know what else to say and, well, I actually wanted to know how things stood at the moment. After the whole arcade debacle.

Before she could answer however, Jesse who had stopped pacing as soon as Helene had pronounced me awake, strode over to the other side of the bed and gently but firmly took my shoulders in his hands. His hair, I noted, was dishevelled and his face was still slightly grimy from the bomb scene. I knew this was quite unusual for the usually neat and tidy Jesse, even though I'd only been around him for four days.

"Are you alright, Susannah? You weren't hurt when I left you in there, were you? The doctor says you seem fine but you fainted and weren't waking up…" He trailed off and flicked a worried gaze around my face.

Despite my condition and everything we had been through that day, I felt a ticklish warmth in my stomach. Against my will, my lips twitched into a smile that didn't really express the extent of _fuzziness_ inside me. The cause of this was – surprise, surprise – Jesse.

The concern in his eyes as they intensely looked into mine, was unmistakeable. It delighted me and at the same time it was maddening. Maddening, because I knew that I shouldn't have been delighted at the fact that he cared for me. I managed to look quite unruffled though.

Tearing my eyes from his powerfully intense ones, I coolly replied, "I'm okay, Jesse. I guess there was too much noise and smoke there for me or something, so I dropped out for a while."

Shaking his head and muttering under his breath again, he withdrew and started pacing the room again. For a second, I was disappointed. Then, I smacked myself inside. What had I been expecting? Passionate kisses with him saying in between how tormented he had been as I lay unconscious and how they had been the worst few hours of his life?

_Welcome to the real world, Simon._ Here, there were no passionate heroes to kiss away the fears and weaknesses of their damsels in distress. Not that I had any. Fears and weaknesses, I mean.

Well, actually… I did. At least, the fears. And at the moment, the biggest one was: what were the consequences of the unplanned attack at the arcade? Was the warriors' 'camp' going to be overrun by police at any moment? Was there another bombing in line?

However, the biggest question nagging me was: how the hell had that bomb exploded when it had not been part of the plans?

Turning to Helene, who was looking at Jesse with an odd look on her face, I said, "You didn't answer me. What's going on? Are there police cars surrounding the place this very minute or are we decamping or what?"

The pensive look coming back over her face, she answered slightly worriedly, "Jesse says they have managed to throw the police off trail…but that doesn't mean they won't find they're way back, right Jesse?"

"Of course - there can be no guarantee about such a thing. If their chief is smart enough, they can be approaching this very minute. If not…lucky us," he replied, not halting in his steps or even looking at us.

"But," I ventured. "It may not be such a bad thing if they come. Maybe you guys can talk and come up with some sort of compromise, you know?" Though, secretly, I knew that kicking butt was a much more efficient way of sorting something out. But then I was tired of all the violence around me. I'd had enough to last a lifetime. The last thing I wanted now was more gunshots and bombs in the place.

Jesse paused to give me a dark, inscrutable look and then resumed with his routine of walking up and down the room. Not exactly understanding the look, I glanced at Helene. She looked distinctly uncomfortable as she fidgeted with fan in her hand.

"What?" I asked, sure that I was missing something here. Because if they thought – as I secretly did – that talking wasn't the solution to this problem, they would have said so. No, this was about something else.

"Helene?" I pressed.

"Susannah," she began uneasily. "We know that you miss your home and would like to go back…but, please understand that obtaining the police's help to do that won't really be good for us. You do know what will happen to us if the police find us, right?"

And then it dawned on me. They thought I wanted to be set free. And that I didn't care if it got all the islanders, Jesse and Helene included, arrested and sentenced on the way.

My jaw dropped open in astonishment. "God, you can't think I'm _that_ callous, can you? That I won't care what happens to all of you? God, I was only suggesting that because I really could do with a little less violence in my life," I said. When the both looked at me with new eyes, I hastily added, "Of course, that doesn't mean that I approve of what you're doing. I would much rather that you didn't use this whole violence method to get whatever it is that you want. But," I ended, pursing my lips. "It looks like there's nothing I can do about that. Or my situation either."

At that last one, Jesse looked like he was going to retort but a look from Helene silenced him. I wondered at the relationship between the two of them. It seemed as if she had quite a lot of influence over him. I was surprised to feel a flicker of jealousy as I pondered darkly over it. But I quickly banished the thought. She was at least seven years older than him, for God's sake.

Plus, I wasn't supposed to care about the women in Jesse's life and exactly how much power they had over him.

I blinked as Helene reached out and shook me gently, breaking me from my envious thoughts.

"Yeah?"

"I was saying, Susannah, that you and I need to have a talk. There are some things we need to get clear. When would you like to have it?" she inquired, her graceful eyebrows raised.

I opened my mouth to answer, but Jesse preceded me.

"Not now, Helene. She needs to rest. God knows she doesn't need one of your lectures now," he said authoritatively.

I actually wasn't feeling like having 'a talk' at the moment, but Jesse's autocratic behaviour annoyed me. Well, actually, his possessiveness roused a delighted flutter in my tummy…and that was what annoyed me. My reaction to his behaviour. _You shouldn't be delighted, Simon! He's a terrorist, for God's sake!_

So, I said, "Oh no, I'm okay. We can have a talk right now, Helene. So, what is it you wanted to talk about?"

To say Helene looked surprised would be an understatement. Clearly she'd never witnessed anyone defy Jesse's wishes.

Glancing at the scowl on Jesse's usually expressionless face, she carefully said, "It's alright, Susannah. We can talk after you rest. Obviously you've been thoroughly taxed these past few days. I wouldn't want to make you ill again." Then, with a kind smile, she went, closing the door softly behind her.

Sighing irritably, I arranged the pillow against the headboard and slumped back against it. I felt, rather than saw, Jesse come sit at the edge of the bed. Finally looking across at him, I saw him staring contemplatively out the window at the darkening sky and the tapered tops of the pine trees bordering the driveway.

Deciding not to pursue the subject of his irritatingly authoritative behaviour, I settled for asking the question which had been on my mind ever since Jesse had told me that the attack hadn't been planned.

"Jesse?"

He looked sharply at me, his eyes questioning.

"If that bomb at the arcade was unplanned, then why did it explode? Who did it? It was one of your men, I assume," I said, raising my eyebrows.

He sighed wearily, running his hand through his hair, further dishevelling it. "One of my men accidentally revealed his gun and unfortunately, there was a police officer standing nearby. He called his fellow police officers and they surrounded my man and were arresting him. Seeing this, one of my other men decided to create a commotion and notify the rest of us by exploding that bomb. Lucklily, it was a relatively harmless bomb. It was the commotion afterwards that caused more damage." Jesse frowned angrily. "A single gunshot would have done it, what was the use of the bomb? "

I remained silent, not knowing what to say to that. But as the silence stretched and Jesse's frown grew deeper, I tentatively suggested, "Maybe you guys can get walkie talkies now. You know, to communicate without causing any harm or pollution."

He rolled his eyes at my choice of reply, but I noticed the frown had disappeared. He flopped down next to me, staring up at the ceiling.

Outside, twilight approached, the sky turning orange and golden, casting shadows all over the room. The two of us remained in our positions – Jesse, lying down with his arms stretched above his head and me, sitting up against a pillow beside him – lost in our thoughts. He was, I presumed, planning on what to do next. I was just thinking of…well, _everything._ About my scattered family, about what lay ahead, about this mysterious 'talk' that Helene wanted to have and about my feelings concerning my captor.

The latter of which, I couldn't even _begin_ to explain.

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**A/N: Please review!**


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